


Got you rapped around my finger

by orphan_account



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, But this is NOT smut, Chan is a tired dad here, Crack, Fluff and Crack, I REPEAT THIS FIC IS CURSED, I'm so sorry, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, This fic is Chaotic Evil, and it's AWFUL but that's the point ok it's on purpose, but it's not...smut...at all....., changbin doesn't deserve this, changbin is The panicked gay here, don't let the summary fool u, he is very whipped for hyunnie, here we are, honestly.......probably gonna delete this tbh to be honest, i have nothing to say except, i literally wrote a RAP for this fic ajsjs, i love hyunjin's verse in mixtape 5 so, i might delete this if it flops bc i hate this fic, i showed it to my sister n she thought it was funny, i was high off anxiety and sleep deprivation and then This happened, i wrote this at 4 am, idek if this counts as “crack taken seriously”, once again this does have quite a bit of sexual theming, pls let him schleep, referenced sexual acts, there is ZERO angst in this, these tags got long but i CANNOT stress how chaotic this is, this fic is a fever dream come to fruition, this fic is cursed, this has ascended to a plane above crack, this is opposite of sexy i promise, this isn't just crack this is….Advanced Crack, u WILL get second hand embarrassment that is a promise, why am i publishing this u ask? great question i have no idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Changbin hyung,” Hyunjin slipped into the rapper’s bedroom, softly shutting the door with a dainty little click. “Can you please help me with something?”“Sorry,” Changbin drawled, not even bothering to take his eyes off his phone screen. “I don't take orders from the dude who rapped ‘hoodie hoodie boogie boogie dance groovy groovy’.”Or: in which Hyunjin tries to impress Changbin with a rap he wrote for him and, well….it’s the thought that counts.
Relationships: Hwang Hyunjin/Seo Changbin
Comments: 27
Kudos: 82





	Got you rapped around my finger

**Author's Note:**

> side effects of reading this fic may include: nervousness, insomnia, nausea, agitation, anxiety, sweating, vision problems, numbness, psychosis, dizziness, headaches, weight loss

“Changbin hyung,” Hyunjin slipped into the rapper’s bedroom, softly shutting the door with a dainty little _click._ “Can you please help me with something?”

Changbin is splayed out in his bed, the covers flung off his muscular body to reveal his rumpled sleep clothes; his cotton tee is pulled up above his tummy, while his loose sweats are rolled up to his right below the knee. His eyes darted off the screen to meet Hyunjin’s hopeful gaze, before slinking back to the device in his hand.

Even so early in the morning, Hyunjin looks impeccable. Even in his oversized gray sleep shirt and baggy joggers, he looks like a goddamn _Adonis._ His beauty verges on mythical, in the sublime fashion that is completely unaffected by his mundane surroundings or informal clothing or sleep-ruffled hair. 

And while Hyunjin looks like he strutted off a very casual runway show, Changbin isn't in such an...artful state so early in the day. No, poor Seo Changbin with his wrinkled loungewear riding up his body and his cheeks swollen from sleep looks more like some quasi-hallyu Mr.Potato Head. Residual smudges of kohl liner under his puffy eyes and all. 

“Sorry,” Changbin drawled, not even bothering to take his eyes off his phone screen after he finished assessing the dancer. “I don't take orders from the dude who rapped ‘hoodie hoodie boogie boogie dance groovy groovy’.” 

Hyunjin gasped, and threw a scandalized hand to his chest. His cheeks flushed a furious shade of scarlet; if he were a cartoon character, steam would be billowing from his ears like a locomotive. 

“C-Chan hyung! Reprimand Changbin hyung right now! Put a coin in the Changbin-is-mean jar!” Hyunjin squawked, pointing an accusatory finger at the lounging rapper. For the record, they don't even _have_ a Changbin-is-mean jar. At least, not yet. 

Hyunjin turned his affronted attention to Chan, after the awkward silence began to soften into something borderline unsettling. 

Chan, who has been awake for the last five…ten...let's make it twenty minutes, yet is still sat halfway up in bed with his eyes foggy and utterly unfocused. His already frizzed out curls are hopelessly mussed from tossing and turning, and are sticking up in every direction like some newfangled crown of thorns. His droopy eyes are bloodshot and puffy, as if air has been piped into the already stuffed bags hanging beneath. 

Chan's always had a turbulent relationship with waking up. And if _that_ is notoriously tumultuous, his relationship with sleep _itself_ is straight out of a juicy episode of Divorce Court. Suffice it to say, Chan and sleep are not on amicable terms. In fact, they're barely on _speaking_ terms. 

“What?” Chan grunted, but it sounded more like the bray of a particularly verbose yak than anything truly syllabic. His voice is wobbly from exhaustion and four octaves deeper than normal. Husky, like a beast–one that has been hopelessly domesticated into no more than a docile pet. “Oh. Listen to whatever Hyunjin said, Jeongin.”

“I'm Changbin.” 

“Listen to whatever Felix said, Changbin.”

“No, it’s Hyunjin, not Felix.” 

“Listen to whoever's right and shut the hell up.” Chan huffed, and promptly flopped back down onto his mattress with the strained groan of the springs compressing under his weight. He pulled the duvet over his disheveled brown curls, and within 30 seconds he is snoring away again. 

Well, luckily they have a day off today; waking up Chan once he's conked out again is about as easy as rousing a corpse from a mortician’s table. 

Hyunjin cocked a brow at the snoring figure of Chan, before turning his (still indignant) attention back to Changbin. Well, he didn't get Changbin grounded per say, but that's the best Chan’s gonna give under the circumstances. 

Changbin stared blankly at the dancer, before clicking his phone off and slipping it back into the charging station plugged underside his mattress. “I'm _kidding,_ Jinnie. I love your verse, we all do! The fans are _obsessed_ with it.” 

His cranky attitude from earlier has fully left the building, and Changbin is now donning a toothy grin as he met Hyunjin’s gaze. “You know I joke with you, Hyunjin.” 

And he does; poking Hyunjin’s side until he throws an adorable tantrum is one of Changbin’s favorite pastimes. And, admittedly, doesn't help the case that he may be a _tad_ bit evil, as maknae line always whines. 

Hyunjin’s insatiable desire to improve his rap–included but not limited to his lyrics, flow, and tone–is well known in their dorm. So given that, Changbin _probably_ shouldn't jeer at his self-written verse for their newest mixtape. Oops?

Luckily, Hyunjin never takes his distasteful jests to heart. 

Hyunjin’s pout shifted, tugging into a mellow smile of his own. “I know.” is all he supplied. 

Silence—with the only noise being the rumbling din of Chan’s snoring, and the shrieks of delight coming from Jisung and Jeongin’s adjacent bedroom. 

But then, Changbin remember;

“What do you need help with, by the way?” Changbin asked, with a cock of his head to the side. He almost forgot the catalyst for Hyunjin’s fit, what with the racket of Chan snoring away under the covers on the other side of the room. 

“O-oh, right,” Hyunjin coughed, before padding further into the shared bedroom. He soon found himself right at Changbin’s side, before latching a hand on the rapper’s bicep and easily pulling him out of bed. 

With a few clumsy steps, the pair found themselves in the empty hallway outside the bedroom. 

Hyunjin released his grasp on Changbin’s meaty forearm, and instead clasped his hands together behind his back. He rocked on his heels, clearly apprehensive. 

Changbin tamped down the sudden urge to kiss the nerves off his plush lips. 

Changbin may or may not have a totally cool and casual crush– _infatuation–_ with Hwang Hyunjin. But can you blame him? Not only is he adorable, incredibly kind, goofy, talented—the list goes on,

and Changbin found himself at the bottom of a ditch labeled “ _Forsaken souls who fell for Hyunjin”._

It's not like Hyunjin would ever return Changbin’s feelings, of course. It's obvious he only sees Changbin as a best friend slash mentor slash cuddle buddy slash lamb skewer-buyer. 

And if there's one thing Changbin's learned since

becoming a stray kid, it's that platonic cuddling is _a lot_ more pervasive than you'd think. So, poor old Changbin is forced to drool over Hyunjin and all his mouth-watering attributes from a moderate distance–there's no such thing as _“a far”_ in their dorm. 

Speaking of which—

“I um,” Hyunjin looked down at his socked feet, idly kicking at nothing. His cheeks are tinged an angry red, flushing all the way up to his ears.

“I wrote a rap for you. Do you wanna hear it and, you know, give feedback?” 

Hyunjin posed the query so quietly, Changbin unconsciously leaned forward to get in better earshot. He was hit with Hyunjin’s natural musk of bergamot and sandalwood like a beautiful, addicting brick wall–one you want to keep running head-first into until your brain hemorrhages. 

Changbin immediately perked up. “You did? That’s amazing, Jinnie! Of course, I'd love to give it a listen!” Changbin could hardly contain his excitement; it's no secret Hyunjin is on a constant mission to improve his lyric-writing abilities, and the fact he came to _Changbin_ for advice made his heart thrum with euphoria. The kind of fiery joy that makes your body tingle from the crown of your scalp all the way down to your toes.

“Really? Thanks, Binnie hyung!” Hyunjin exclaimed, bouncing in place and clapping his hands together. _Cute,_ Changbin found himself musing. 

“Come on, let's go to my room!” Hyunjin continued, elation piercing each word to tumble

messily from his lips. 

And with that, he fastened a hand on Changbin’s wrist again, and unceremoniously yanked him down the hall. 

_  
  
  
  
_

XXX

  
  


Hyunjin’s shared room with Minho is dark and quiet, save for the golden glow of his bedside table lamp. The ambient light casts rich black shadows along the dips and divots of the two boy’s nestled on the bed.

Changbin folded his legs neatly under his body, and got comfy on Hyunjin’s squishy bed. The dancer sat cross legged opposite him, a tattered sheet of lined paper now clasped in his hand.

He had retrieved the paper from his bedside drawer, crumpled up tight until he deftly unfolded it into its full, creased glory.

“I'm kinda nervous,” Hyunjin spoke softly, his eyes quickly giving his worn lyric sheet a once over.

Changbin rolled his eyes; “It's just me, ‘Jin!” He tried to be comforting, reaching out a hand to pat Hyunjin’s shoulder in the process. It was more so awkward than overtly reassuring, but Changbin’s trying his best. “Don't be nervous, ok?” 

Hyunjin’s tight-lipped frown eased, if not marginally. “Thanks, hyung.” He murmured under his breath, and began to roll his shoulders and clear his throat.

With one final preparatory cough, Hyunjin trained just eyes on his lyric sheet, and began.

“Uh, yeah,” Hyunjin started, shifting into his zone as his large hands began to gesticulate. He kept his eyes firmly trained on the creased lyric sheet, which is now bopping through the air with each swag-filled gesture. 

He's learned well, from his 3racha buddies; Hyunjin looks straight out of their trio, with his expert hip-hop ad libs and movements. 

“Changbin hyung, I know your dick is so hung; I wanna grip it like a phone, ask it who rung.” 

Right off the bat, Changbin choked on a pad of saliva and saw searing white dance in his vision. Each word smacked him upside the head with the efficiency of a heavyweight boxer. 

_What in god's name is Hyunjin saying?!_ How are such sentiments seriously falling from his lips?! Is Changbin hallucinating? Tripping balls? Has he finally lost his marbles?! But more importantly: can he hide under Hyunjin's bed for the duration of this...rap? If that's what this is!

_Oh god,_ Changbin thought to himself in horror, _this is only the first line._

It's the first goddamn line, and Hyunjin is passionately belting about his immense desire to grasp Changbin’s penis like a landline. Changbin pinched the fleshy crook of his elbow; sharp stings zapped his nerves. He's not dreaming–this isn't a _nightmare._

What is this, some kind of confession from Hell?! Hyunjin is _rapping_ about wanting to give Changbin a 90s technology-adjacent handjob! Well, yeah, Changbin has a totally casual and normal bro-crush on Hyunjin, so it’s not like Changbin wouldn't necessarily _not_ want that, but—

But yeah–you can't judge a book by its cover, so by that logic you can't judge a rap by its opening line. Maybe it'll get better as it goes on? Maybe the whole “Hotline schlong” bit was a fluke? 

“I know you like hentai, it’s no lie-lie; I hear you and Chan watch it on the fly-fly.” Hyunjin rapped with ease, his flow surprisingly adept and natural despite the...less than tasteful lyrics. 

_And…_.all of Changbin's hope for this to somehow make a total 180 flew out the window. Along with his last remaining grains of sanity. His blood turned icy, draining any all color from Changbin's reddened cheeks. 

How did Hyunjin ever catch wind of his and Chan’s thursday night ahegao marathons?! They steam those on a private browser, _and_ with shared airpods in! Changbin is .03 seconds away from hiring a private investigator. Or a therapist. Or both. 

Ok, yeah, they _might_ have been asking for trouble by scheduling weekly, totally platonic and brotherly jack-off sessions. Changbin will admit that whole heartedly. They're growing and sexually active boys, ok?! They need to let off steam somehow! And, well, inhumanly squeaky moans and cross-eyed ejaculations do the trick. 

But the fact that _Hyunjin_ knows about those pixelated dongs and watermelon-sized breasts with the consistency of water _balloons_ makes Changbin want to evaporate into wisps of steam. He wants to fucking _die._ Spear B? More like _Cease to B._

He's been through a lot, with Stray Kids. A lot of antics and wild episodes that _no one_ outside their squad would believe. But this? This, right now, is the lowest point Changbin’s ever experienced in their carnival-of-horrors-slash-dorm. Which– _trust him–_ is saying something. 

Changbin pushed a gulp of saliva down his throat, and prayed for Hyunjin’s marshmallow comforter to devour him whole. 

Hyunjin, however, kept his eyes on his lyric sheet, and continued his verbal rampage. 

“Hyung, you're my inspiration; no one like you in our nation!” Hyunjin’s tongue worked overtime to belch those spit-fire lines. His eyes are hard and pulled firm with concentration, his non-lyric gripping hand is still manically flopping about with each word. 

That wasn't so bad! He called Changbin his inspiration! How sweet is that? Maybe this rap just needs a few minutes to really get into the good stuff! 

“I mean yeah, you're short as Hell; but you still make wanna yell. All through the night I think about you; wanna know just what that Spear B mouth do.” 

Hyunjin's rapping voice has always been hard hitting and impactful, and the sheer assurity in which he spits out the lines _almost_ allowed Changbin to gloss over the contents. Almost.

Hyunjin’s rapping has improved by leaps and bounds, but in that moment all Changbin could do was stare; eyes dead and glassy and staring off into space. 

“Oh my god,” Changbin muttered, and his soul officially evaporated from the now-husk of his body. “ _Short as Hell”_ . “ _What that Spear B mouth do”._ In the same verse. Can a meteor please careen through the dorm, conveniently blasting Changbin alone into smithereens? Can a stray piano crash through their ceiling and squash him into a Changbin pancake? Any kind of freak accident to put a full stop on his madness would be _extremely_ appreciated. 

In theory, that line in particular _should_ have turned him on. But alas, his dick is as limp as a cooked spaghetti noodle, because _what the actual fuck._

Silence rained upon them, only broken by the ringing in Changbin's ears and the ragged breaths stopping up his lungs. 

Hyunjin didn't let another ungodly verse escape his throat. He's now staring at Changbin, glittery eyes wide and expectant and _much_ too innocent for what Changbin was just subjected to hearing. He's going to have a _long_ talk with Chan about... _this,_ later. 

But, Hyunjin’s Coachella from Hell is finally over, and he's immensely grateful for that. Very grateful. His eardrums were mere seconds away from having a nice dip in some Chlorox. 

Changbin coughed, forcing the previous minutes of insanity from between the coils of his reeling brain. He rapidly blinked his eyes to try one last ditch attempt to free himself from this very advanced sleep paralysis demon in the form of a happy-go-lucky dancer, but to no avail. Alas, this is as real as real life gets. 

“Hyunjin, that was, um,”….terrible? Horrifying? Disturbing? Some amalgam of everything unholy in the world? How does he pose his reaction as... _gently_ , as possible? 

“Very unique?” Changbin eventually settled on. Mission accompanied: Operation _Dear God don't make Hyunjin sad_ was a rousing success. The dancer-slash-lyricist looks as chipper as ever. 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, and crumpled up the slip of paper. He shoved it into his back pocket, as he said “Hyung, I wasn't finished yet. There's still two lines left.” 

Changbin gulped, and braced himself for impact. His hands formed fists against the cotton of his joggers, and all he can do is plead for this insanity to end. _God, what else can he possibly say?!_ “O-oh, ok Hyunjin. Go ahead?” 

He was so close to being free. So, _so_ close he could taste it! 

Hyunjin’s wily smirk suddenly eased into something more along the side of bashful. Tender, and thoughtful. He pursed his thick lips, his long fingers picking at some stray fibers along the edge of his comforter. 

Hyunjin cleared his throat again, but all his previous underground rapper-adjacent confidence has melted into a shallow pool of its former glory.

“Hyung, I couldn't imagine my life without you.” He began, keeping the melodic quality in each word. 

“Will you go on a date with me?” 

Oh. So this _was_ a confession from Hell. And Changbin wasn't misinterpreting the lewd lyrics–he's not completely delusional, and in some startling twist of fate, _Hyunjin_ is asking their resident love struck fool _Changbin_ on a date. Well, maybe all that auditory assault was worth it. Maybe. 

Suddenly, rather than wanting to scrub his ears with peroxide, Changbin’s heart pounded against his ribs with newfound vitality; a bolt of affection struck clean through the muscle. His barely-contained cringe softened into a dopey, lopsided grin, as his pudgy cheeks blushed a pretty shade of rose. 

“Hyunjin,” Changbin began, scooting forward on the bed to close their distance. The comforter mired around his thick thighs, but it didn't deter Changbin from clambering closer to the dancer. Hyunjin instantly perked up, in rapt attention for the incoming answer to his proposition. 

“That didn't even rhyme.” 

Hyunjin spluttered, and shoved his big, lovely hands in his hair to tug at the roots. “C’mon, hyung! I thought we were having a connection!” he howled, doubling over to plonk his face flush into the cushy folds of his blanket. “Do you know how hard I worked on that rap?!” 

He worked _hard_ on that?! Was he on bath salts or something equally illegal and mind-altering? The devil’s lettuce? Smelling highlighter tips? Changbin wouldn't put it past millennium line, but it’s no matter; Hyunjin’s rap-writing skills may need some fine tuning, but you know what they say—it's the thought that counts.

And, well, Changbin wouldn't trade the _thought_ behind the Hellish verses for _anything_ in the world. Even for a newfangled machine to let him un-hear each line Hyunjin let loose into the air. 

All Changbin could do in the face of such saccharine cuteness is chuckle; lovingly. Good naturedly. Hyunjin is so adorable. His very existence wraps a gauzy cushion of endearment around lascivious lyrics keening for Changbin’s...little Changbin. _Littler,_ at least. 

Which Changbin _still_ has yet to unpack, given the u-haul sized load carried in those sentiments. A literal load, if Changbin plays his cards right, perhaps. But he punted such thoughts from his brain, with enough force to trample his cranial hemispheres to pulp. 

“Hyunnie,” He chirped, and gazed down at Hyunjin through his lashes. “I'm kidding, again. _”_

“I couldn't imagine life without you, either. And, honestly, I'd be _honored_ if you went on a date with _me.”_ It was more a poor attempt at verbal poetry than anything with true musicality, but the message stays the same. Shakespeare is utterly unimpressed with such a poor excuse at a romantic sonnet, but Changbin never attempted to be anything close to profound. 

Hyunjin lifted his head out of the duvet, his eyes dark and sparkling and his lips pulled into a beaming grin. “That didn't rhyme, hyung. _”_

Now it is Changbin's turn to scoff, and slap an offended hand to his chest. “Hey! I wasn't even rapping, you little–”

Changbin leapt forward, wrapping his arms and legs nice and snug around Hyunjin's torso and effectively tackling him into the mattress. The plush bed jolted with the weight of the two boys tumbling onto the pillows against the headboard, but the squeal of the springs was easily drowned out by the dulcet tenor of their giggles.

Hyunjin threw his head back, and laughed. Full bodied and carefree, as he allowed himself to be smothered by a new breed of octopus known as _“Seo Changbin when he’s feeling cuddly”._ But it's ok, Hyunjin’s dealt with this beast before; and he knows exactly how to tame it.

The dancer slung his arms around Changbin's back, and pressed him gently down—until Changbin found himself laying nice and flat on Hyunjin's chest. His heart is beating slow and steady under his thick hoodie, and it soothes Changbin from the inside out. 

“Hyunjin,” Changbin began, shifting to a slightly more comfortable position on top of the dancer. Hyunjin hummed, spurring him to continue.

“I'll only take you on a date if you _promise_ to burn that lyric sheet, and never speak of it again.” 

Hyunjin whined, and buried his face into the crook of Changbin's neck. His breath is so hot and heady and _addicting._ “Ugh, _fine!”_ he acquiesced, and Changbin distinctly felt lead shackles of embarrassment melt away to nothing. 

“We can write you a new set of verses, I promise.” Changbin soothed the perturbed dancer, reaching a hand up to card through his raven hair. It's a bit cumbersome and awkward from their position, but Changbin gladly made do. 

“Together?” asked Hyunjin with tangible hope, pulling out of Changbin's neck to meet him with starry, glossy eyes. 

Changbin couldn't contain his smile; it bunched his cheeks and made the flesh sting, but he wouldn't trade the ache for anything. Maybe Hyunjin’s rap wasn't so bad, on second thought.

“Together.” 

**Author's Note:**

> as u can see i'm Definitely not coming for 3rachas brand 
> 
> idk why im even bothering for a fic like this, BUT if for some reason u enjoyed this shit show, comments/kudos make my day and motivate me to write (better) fics (not like this). ill be posting an Actually Good fic on the 18th, n probs one more after that bc i'm tryna clear out my docs lol 
> 
> i'm gonna go repent for my sins. if this fic made anyone laugh...or smile...pls let me know in the comments so i don't immediately become overcome with regret and delete/orphan this monstrosity (even tho i probs will l8r lmao i hate this fic so much)


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